But when the conquered spirit breaks free And indicates a new light Who'll take care of the cats?

Spirit is Life. It flows thru the death of me endlessly like a river unafraid of becoming the sea.

It is a great feeling to know that from a window I can go to books to cans of beer to past loves. And from these gather enough dream to sneak out a back door.

The fall of man stands a lie before Beethoven, a truth before Hitler.

Standing on a street corner waiting for no one is power.

Anyway, I lived on the streets and did pretty good until I got caught stealing, what was it? I kicked in a restaurant window, went in and took all the food that I wanted, and while coming out I was grabbed.

My father took me back home, back to Greenwich Village, and he thought by taking me out of the orphanage he'd be out of the World War too. But no way - they got him anyway. He went in the Navy and then I lived on the streets.